Fearless
by Jacovi
Summary: Mornings were the same. School was routine. Evenings never change. It was simple and predictable but I liked it. It was a nice change for me. But unfortunately, like all things it didn't last forever.
1. Fracas

Morning's always start out the same way. Going to school is routine. Coming home is no different than the day before. The next day starts out the same as the previous. That was all there was to it. Three sections of the day: morning, afternoon, and night. It was simple. But I liked it. It felt good to be able to know almost exactly what was going to happen tomorrow. Boring and predictable was a nice change. But it wasn't going to last forever.

You know that there is something wrong when school is the highlight of your day. You know that if you don't own a house then you should be absolutely miserable. People tend to think of people on the streets in tattered clothing as people who don't have a house. They call them 'homeless'. I didn't have a house, but I wasn't 'homeless', just 'houseless'. I had a home. It's called an abandoned run down building that has been long forgotten in a dark alley. Honestly, the place gave me the creeps and I'd never go far back into it. I hung out near the windows. I stayed near the light.

I was enrolled in school. People there didn't know where I lived. They didn't care either. I didn't think that anyone did. I didn't ever talk to anyone at school. People that lived here were divided into groups depending on their wealth. Well, actually they're more like gangs. There was the West Side, the Socs. They had all the breaks, or at least that's what everyone thought. Then there was the East Side, the greasers. The poorer side. Life was rough for them. The greasers and the Socs constantly fought each other.

But of course there was one more group. My group I suppose, or at least it used to be. They lived in the middle of town and had no name. They weren't even a gang. They weren't wealthy. They worked hard to just get by. In my mind, this was the most dangerous 'group' of all because they didn't have anyone to depend on. Just themselves.

Unless you are a Soc, you couldn't look into the eyes of another Soc at school without getting beat up. Unless of course you are a girl. Then you might get pushed over or slammed into a locker. Then they might still beat you up. If you ask me, I think that it's pretty stupid and I'm not afraid of any of the Socs at school. I planned to look directly into the eyes of the next one that I saw. Maybe say a few words to him. That was one of the best and worst decisions of my life.

When morning came I rushed off to school. Somehow, even without a car I managed to get there on time. School always goes by quickly for me. Even though I enjoyed getting out and going to it, I still got bored listening to the teacher ramble on about things that no one will ever need to know in life, nor cares about in the first place. So I started doodling. I'm always quiet at school so the teacher never expects _me_ to be doing anything wrong. Ha ha. It works in my favor.

By the time the bell rang, I had almost finished drawing a pack of fighting wolves surrounded by flames. I still have no idea what possessed me to want to draw it. I just did. I slid the paper into my notebook and took off for the lunch period. They gave us an entire _period_ for lunch. I just need a little over five minutes. Sometimes I didn't even bring lunch. I ran low on food and just a little when I got 'home'.

I just took out my book and started reading until I heard a group of Socs talking to one another _right behind me._ I had told myself that I was going to look in one's eyes directly. I wasn't afraid. I'd even try to start a 'nice' conversation with him. See how tough he really is. I gingerly placed my book back in my bag and walked over to him, smiling sweetly.

"Hi," I said. He whipped around to get a good look at me. Man, he was bigger than I'd thought! He must have been a football player, if not a wrestler too. In fact, it didn't appear that there wasn't an extreme sport that this guy couldn't play. He looked kind of like a refrigerator with legs. But I continued smiling at him. He grimaced as he looked me over and lifted his fist as if to punch me. I raised my eyebrows slightly and inclined my head as if to say '_do you really want to be doing that?_'. He did but I was too quick. He swung and I ducked and moved to the side.

"I think that you missed," I said dryly and smiled again. His lip curled.

"_Excuse _me?" he growled, taking a few steps towards me. I crossed my arms.

"Oh, sorry." I flipped my hair absent mindedly. "I forgot who I was talkin' to." I looked back into his eyes and said slowly, "I—think—that—you—missed—." I heard him grunt and take off like a bull charging a matador so I side-stepped. One of his friends caught my arm and before I could do anything, threw me to the ground. I rolled to the side as the guy that I was taunting tried to take off at me again.

"How _dare _you!" he snarled at me but his last word was caught off as he was punched in the stomach. I jumped to my feet and looked to see who it was. I couldn't get a very good look at him before the Soc jumped at him but from what I could tell, he had greased hair and appeared to have rusty colored sideburns on the sides of his face. _Why does a greaser want to help me?_ I thought, confused.

Whoever he was, he wasn't holding up to well with the Soc. Or at least that wasn't what it looked like. The Soc kept knocking him to the ground but as quick as anything, the greaser was back on his feet and at him again. _I started this, _I thought, _I have to help him_. I walked towards them slowly, like a mountain lion eyeing how she was to make her kill, head held high. As the Soc pushed the greaser to the ground and held him there, I kicked him in the side.

"Hey, you!" I said. "Get offa 'em. This is _my _fight." I kicked him again. Hard. He rolled off of the greaser and glared up at me.

"You," he snorted. I smiled at him again and bent down slightly.

"Well who'd ya think it was, _genius?_ Your grandma?" It almost surprised me how quickly he was able to get his feet under him and leap. I caught him with a punch to his face in midair. He kicked me in the stomach on his way down and knocked the air out of me.

The greaser was on his feet now and standing next to me, facing the Soc. I looked over at him quickly and said, "Why'd you attack him? Thought he was my fight." His gray eyes twinkled.

"It looked like you need help," he said simply.

"I was fine. His friend just caught me off guard."

"It didn't look it."

"Right. It _looked_ like you got your butt kicked," I said. He smiled but that was all he had time for because the Soc's little buddy came up behind him and the Soc we had just knocked to the ground came up to me.

"Well," he said coolly. "I've never seen a girl fight."

"Well," I said mockingly, "maybe you should get some glasses." He punched my chin and I took a few steps backwards. I shook my head slightly and then grinned at him. "You hit like a little girl!" I laughed and flung myself at him. I hit his weak point then did a few blows to his stomach, knocking the air out of him. I hoped that the greaser could handle his buddy.

"Holler uncle when you've learned your lesson," I said in a taunting voice. He kicked me in the face and I landed on my back. I rolled behind him and just as I was getting up, I saw a flash of movement move towards the Soc and looked to see a kid about my age helping with the Soc. I saw that is reddish hair was greased too. _Another greaser?_ I thought. I launched my attack again, this time with the kid's help. It looked like the other greaser could handle his fight alone after all.

"Okay!" the Soc yelped as I landed a blow to his face. "Okay, uncle! Stop it! Uncle, okay?!" I stopped in mid blow and the kid and I took a few steps back. I looked him over. He wasn't bloodied up badly, hardly at all, but he did have a bruise on his cheek. I wondered what I looked like. I shrugged at my thoughts. It didn't matter anyway. Who was going to ask?

The other greaser wasn't too bloody either, though he had a few more bruises than we did on his arms as well as his face. He walked over to the kid in me, grinning happily as if he'd just had the time of his life.

"Well," he said, "that was the most excitement that I've had in a while." I couldn't help but smile too.

"Did any of the teachers see?" the kid asked. Was that what he was worried about? "Are we goin' to get in trouble?" I sighed.

"Nope!" the other greaser said, his eyes lighting up even more than before. "Not this time!" I rolled my eyes and snorted and he turned to me. "Hey," he said, "you fight pretty good for a girl." I flicked my chocolate brown hair.

"Yes and you get your butt kicked pretty good for a guy," I said jokingly. I held out my hand. "I'm Romy." He grasped my hand firmly, still smiling.

"I'm Two-Bit," he said, the motioned to the other greaser. "And this here's Ponyboy." I raised one of my eyebrows slightly and looked them over.

"Okay cool," I said. "But I thought I heard someone call you Keith." Two-Bit's grin vanished.

"Yeah, that's my name. But everyone calls me Two-Bit." I smiled slightly.

"The name suits you." He grinned again. I turned to Ponyboy. "You fight pretty good," I acknowledged. He smiled slightly.

"Thanks," he said and I could tell immediately that he wasn't as bold as his friend. He looked up at Two-Bit, something in his green-gray eyes making them dance.

"What?" I asked. Two-Bit shrugged.

"Nothin'. Why?"

"Dunno. Thought you were thinkin' 'bout somethin'," I said, also shrugging.

"I think Pony's just—"

"_I'm_ just surprised that you didn't ask about my name," Ponyboy cut in. I furrowed my brow.

"People usually do?"

"Yeah. They think that's it's weird that it's my actual name," he said. I inclined my head.

"It's your actual name?" I lifted one of my eyebrows slightly again. He nodded.

"Yeah. And I have a brother named Sodapop. Even on our birth certificates." He shrugged.

"Very original," I said. He smiled. We were silent for a while, just looking each other over. Pony looked kind of young to be in high school. He was small but had a good build to him. His eyes were a green-gray color, more green then gray. His hair was light brown with a reddish tint to it. Two-Bit was tall and looked pretty much the opposite of Pony. He had rusty colored sideburns, gray eyes, and looked too old to be a junior in high school.

Finally, Two-Bit said, "Girl, you've got guts." I just smiled.

"So do you."

"You live around here?" I paused, my breath catching in my throat.

I just decided on saying, "Sort of." Two-Bit took a step towards me.

"Somethin' wrong?" I shook my head.

"Nah, that was just sort of a . . . random question. Caught me off guard." He didn't look convinced but I shrugged. It looked like he might have said something else but luckily for me, the bell rang.

"Gotta go," I told them, starting to walk. "Nice meetin' you. See you later." I quickly darted off to class.

After the fight at lunch, school was even more boring than usual. I usually enjoy history but that day I couldn't concentrate on it. I kept thinking about the fight. I kept thinking about moves that I could have and should have used that would have made the fight easier. I thought of words that I should have said to the Socs. I thought of questions that I should have asked Two-Bit and Pony. Meeting them was kind of a big deal for me. I hadn't had a conversation with anyone since the first day of school.

When the final bell rang, I made my walk home quickly and dumped my school bags in the building next to a couple bags of food and other necessities. I opened one of the bags and pulled out some cash from it. Pushing the bags so that they were out of view from the door and all the windows, I made my way back out of the building. I needed some more food. The grocery store wasn't far from my home.


	2. The DX

After I'd gone to the grocery store and bought a meager amount of food that didn't have to be refrigerated, I made my way back to my home and placed it in one of the bags. On days when I have to make a grocery store trip, I like to go to a gas station called the DX just to get a snack. I don't know why. I just do. I also like getting an ice cold drink. It's not every day that I get to drink something cold.

I walked inside the DX and quickly made my way to the back where they keep the soft drinks. I got myself a Pepsi then looked around for something to munch on. I desperately wanted to buy a big bag of beef jerky, but the price was high and I only had so much money. I just decided on a small bag of chips then paid the cashier and walked out, taking a long sip of my drink. It tasted great. And _cold_. Outside, two of the employees were working on cars. I started to walk past them when I recognized a kid standing by one of them.

"Pony?" I asked, walking over to them. His head jerked up, obviously surprised, but he smiled slightly once he saw that it was me.

"Oh, hi," he said. The employee that he was standing next to looked up from his job. "What are you doing here?" I held up my soda and chips.

"Getting something to munch on. You?" I took another taste of my drink.

"Talking to my brother." I looked at the worker intently.

"So _you're_ Sodapop," I said. Soda smiled and nodded.

"Yup, that's me," he said, "and you must be Romy." He and Pony sure did look like brothers. Soda had sort of golden blonde colored hair and dancing dark brown eyes. When he smiled, I couldn't help but smile too. He seemed like a pretty nice guy. I looked back to Pony.

"You tell him 'bout—"

"The fight? Yeah, I did."

"Way to whup that Soc!" Soda laughed, patting my shoulder. "Sheesh, you've got guts! Lookin' a Soc in the eye like that and talking to 'em. Didya have a gang behind you or anything?" I shook my head.

"Nah, it's just me. I'm not a greaser or a Soc. I'm in the middle. No gang." Soda chuckled slightly.

"Well, why'd ya do that? Didn't ya know what Socs do?" I smiled.

"Yeah." Soda looked confused, as well as Ponyboy, so I went on, "I'm not afraid of them. I hate how they just walk around the school with their noses so high that the birds are poopin' on 'em. I figured that I'd let 'em know that I'm not afraid of them. And that I could take them."

"Ah. I kind of get it," Soda said.

"Really?"

"Nah, not really." I laughed.

"I didn't think so. I'm kind of an odd person." Soda shrugged.

"That don't matter," he said and crossed his arms. "So where do you live." Pony was staring at me intently, waiting for me to answer completely without taking off.

"Um . . . just over there a ways," I stammered, gesturing in the direction of the abandoned building. Soda seemed to notice that I was uncomfortable with discussing where I lived, and although I could tell that he was curious, he changed the subject.

"Folks nice?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sure," I said. I was still kind of stammering and he noticed again.

"Sure?" he asked. I shrugged.

"My dad was kind of scary," I admitted. I hadn't caught the mistake in my sentence but he sure did. Pony must've too because I could see the glint of confusion in his eyes.

"Was?" Pony asked. I winced.

"Is. I mean is," I said, my hands beginning to shake slightly. It had been a long while since I lied and I was a little out of practice. I didn't talk to people that often. Soda could see that I was lying.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

"N-no," I said. Soda inclined his head and his eyes were shining with sympathy. Finally I sighed and looked down. "I mean, yeah. He's dead."

"I'm sorry." I let out a snort and crossed my arms.

"I'm not," I growled firmly. "He deserved what he got." I'd confused them again.

"What?" Pony asked. "He _deserved_ it?" I shrugged.

"Definitely. He was cruel and he beat both my mom and me. He deserved what he got." A shadow passed over my face. _But my mom didn't, _I added silently.

"Oh," Soda sighed. "I got it. I'm sorry." I managed a small smile then shrugged. I didn't want his sympathy.

"So where do you live?" Soda pointed in the direction of their house.

"That a ways," he said.

"So, you guys in a gang?" I asked. Soda nodded.

"Yeah," Pony piped up, "There's me Soda, Two-Bit, Darry, Johnny, Steve, and Dallas."

"Darry, Steve, Johnny, and Dallas," I said, "I haven't met them yet. I might have heard a bit about Dallas though. He sounds familiar." Pony nodded.

"He's gotta record with the fuzz," he said. I furrowed my brow and blinked.

"Um, excuse me for not knowing this already, but how can anyone have a record with _fuzz_?" I asked confused. Pony and Soda exchanged a glance and then burst out laughing. "_What_?"

"The fuzz is another word for the police!" Soda told me between laughs. I felt heat rush to my face in embarrassment.

"Oh," I sighed. "So that's what it is."

"You're not from here are you?" Pony asked. I shrugged.

"Nah, I just moved here at the beginning of the school year."

"How come?" That was the question that I really didn't want to answer. I took another drink of my soda and when I opened my mouth to speak, I was cut off by another voice.

"Hey Soda, who ya talkin' to?" someone called. Pony, Soda, and I all turned to the voice.

"Hey Steve," Soda said and we walked over to him. He gestured to me. "This is Romy. She, Pony, and Two-Bit beat up a couple of Socs at school today." I looked down quickly, hiding a smile. Steve cocked an eyebrow.

"Good job," he grunted. I looked up at him. Well he sure didn't seemed like he cared, but that didn't bother me. I decided to talk about it anyway.

"Yeah," I said. But then I felt kind of embarrassed. I mean, I knew that if Two-Bit and Ponyboy hadn't jumped in then I would have gotten beaten up. Again. Steve crossed his arms.

"_You _picked the fight?" he growled. I nodded sheepishly.

"In a way. All I did was look into his eyes and say 'hi'. Nothin' bad. But then again, I knew that he'd get ticked." He half smiled.

"I wasn't thinkin' that you did anything bad," he said.

"Of course not," I murmured. "'Cause no one expects a girl to try and pick a fight. Everyone thinks that we're all soft and weak . . . maybe we are . . ."

Steve took a step backwards and looked me over for a second before taking two more steps forward as if he didn't know how to react. He glanced at Soda and then back to me.

"That's not what I meant," he said. I smiled.

"Of _course_ not," I replied.

"What I don't get is how you can pick a fight at school and get away without a teacher seeing." I shrugged.

"I guess that it's so noisy and there are so many verbal fights and everything, you couldn't hear our noise over everyone else's. I don't get it either though. Maybe there was another fight going on that they were busy with. Ours didn't last for too long so maybe it was over before they could stop us. I'm thankful that they didn't see though. That would've been a real bummer." Soda grinned.

"Yeah it would've! Bet it woulda put a big black mark on your school record!" I smiled too. It was hard not to around Soda. I hadn't been with him for an hour and I already knew that.

"We didn't exactly beat them up," I blurted, deciding to put a little truth in. "They just ran off. Maybe they saw a teacher comin' or somethin', but we did not beat them up." Soda blinked.

"Random," he confirmed after a while. I chuckled. "Hey, Romy, are you doin' anything today? You think you might be able to come over to our place." Pony's mouth and mine both dropped. We hardly knew each other, and he was inviting me over? I hadn't been to another person's house in a very long time, and I've never been over to a friend's house. But it wasn't a school night, it being Friday and all, and I did like talking with them . . .

"Okay!" I replied, a little too eagerly. "I'm not doin' anythin'. And that sounds like fun!"


	3. The Bear

I walked a little behind Ponyboy as he led me to his home. He sure was quiet when he was away from people that he knew really well. _So are you sometimes, _a voice in my head reminded me. I shrugged it off. Okay, maybe sometimes I was too. The silence was still bugging me.

"There seem to be a lot of . . . rodeos here," I said. I'm really bad at trying to start conversations. Usually I wait for someone else to start one and then join in.

"Yeah . . . there are." It didn't look like Pony was going to help me out much with this. I sighed.

"Are they fun?" I asked. Pony looked at me.

"Well, yeah. You've never been?" I shook my head.

"Once. Just a glimpse though. I remember some guy inviting all the kids in the middle of the ring. I dunno what he was doing. I just kinda walked around the ring. All I really remember is two 'cowboys' sittin' on top of some kinda tall metal cage. I heard some pounding from inside the cage and saw the head of a horse as he reared up. I was little so I can't remember a whole lot. I do know that the horse wasn't happy. Poor thing." Pony smiled a little.

"Yeah. It's more fun if you're _in _the rodeo."

"You ever been?" He let out a small snort of laughter.

"Nah. Soda has though. Steve might've been, too, but I could be mistaken."

"Ooh, what'd he do?"

"Saddle bronc, but Dad made 'em quite after he tore a ligament. We still hang around rodeos a lot though." I nodded.

"I used to ride horses. I had to quit for a couple of . . . reasons . . . but I really miss it. I want to get on a horse again. I love to canter, and I really want to learn how to jump." Pony cocked an eyebrow.

"That's cool, but you oughta try barrel racing." My eyes lit up.

"Barrel racing? That sounds awesome!" He chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah it is. Rodeos are always fun."

"Unless you're an animal in it," I said pointedly. "But at least none of the animals are killed . . ." I narrowed my eyes. "Right?" He smiled again and nodded.

It was a while before Ponyboy's house actually came into view. It wasn't the kind of house that stereotypes about poorer people would suggest he'd live in. I thought that it was nice, kind of cute in a way, and when I got older (and had a job!) I wouldn't want a house any bigger. I was never one for mansions. I like to poke my nose in them, but I would never live in one. Way to big. What would I ever do with all that space anyway? I'd spend most of my time outside, and inside I'd only really be in one room. The rest would just collect dust.

Pony led the way to do the front door and held it open for me. I stepped into the house's family room area and took a look around. The family and the kitchen were right next to each other, the only thing dividing them was the family room's carpet turned into tile as it met the kitchen. The dark gold walls radiated the sun and the lights which gave the room a joyful atmosphere. It looked as if there was a bathroom built off of the family room on the opposite wall of the kitchen. If I'd kept walking then I would have reached a hallway. The lights were turned off in the hallway, however, so I couldn't really see far down it.

Curious, I started to walk towards the hallways, hearing Pony's light footsteps behind me. I know it sounds dumb, but I felt kind of like an explorer searching the unknown. Kind of like a kid again playing one of those silly games the children make up.

Well, in a way I was having fun until I reached one of the doorways. I felt a shadow move over me and I half smiled. When I turned towards the doorway, my smile faded and my breath caught in my throat as I came face to face with a large bear. His icy eyes met mine with a clear look of confusion.

Caught off guard, I gritted my teeth and took a large step backwards. Pony glanced at me and then walked the few extra feet to the door to get a look at what had surprised me. When he looked at me again, it looked as if he was about to start laughing.

"Pony," the grizzly said, "who's this?" I was still against the other wall but I managed to get a grip enough to cross my arms. This guy had _really _caught me off guard.

"Oh, this is Romy," Pony answered. He turned back to me. "Romy, this is my oldest brother, Darry." I managed a small smile and I could've beat myself up for getting spooked like that.

"Hi," I said, walking back up to him and offering a hand. He shook it. "I . . . um . . . didn't see you there." Darry laughed.

"Yeah, it looked like a really scared you," he admitted. I shrugged.

"Kinda," I said in a higher voice. He grinned.

"Two-Bit an' I met her at school today," Pony explained. "She picked a fight with a Soc." Darry raised an eyebrow and I snorted.

"All I did was say 'hi' and maybe mock him a bit. That's all. Not like I punched 'em or anything. He tried to punch _me_. Or at least I think he did. He might've been playing with me at first," I growled. Darry nodded and I took a step back, getting my first good look at the guy.

I hadn't been mistaken about the icy eyes. They were just that color. Maybe not that emotion, but definitely the color. His hair wasn't long like the others'. It was dark brown with a slight cowlick in the back. It kind of kicked out in the front.

He had to be at least six feet. He was broad shouldered and muscular, and he did remind me something of a big grizzly bear. I say something because if he and a bear ever got in a fight, I was sure that Darry would kick the bear's head in. That's kind of scary. His build looked a ton like my father's. His eyes . . . also kind of like my father's. I suppressed a shiver.

Darry looked concerned for a second. "I didn't scare too bad, did I, kid?" he asked. I shook my head quickly.

"N-no," I stammered. "Sorry, I was just thinking." I smiled and shook my head again. "I gotta stop doin' that." Both brothers furrowed their brows at me and I shrugged. "Never mind."

Pony looked at Darry and said, "Soda and Steve should be over in a little while." Darry nodded and I smiled. I hadn't known Soda for a day and I was almost certain that I knew him pretty well. He seemed kind, happy-go-lucky, always smiling.

"Soda seems nice," I stated, trying to change the subject. They nodded.

"He is," Pony assured.

"Steve seems harder to read," I continued. "I can get an idea of what Soda's like after a conversation, but what's Steve like?"

"He's . . . " Pony shrugged. "Soda's best friend since grade school." I blinked. "He knows just about everything about cars . . . he can drive anything."

"He's kind of cocky," Darry nodded, sensing that Pony could use some help. "He's pretty intelligent though." I nodded.

"Like I said, harder to read." I put my hands on my hips. Pony nodded.

"I guess," he said. "Soda and him make a good team. Steve's really good with cars and Soda attracts girls like honey drawn flies. Soda's great with cars too, though, don't get me wrong." I chuckled. I wasn't the type to go crazy over guys. I just wasn't interested and have never been on a date in my life, but I could see how Soda could get an audience over at his job. That gas station probably won't go out of business soon.

"So where do you live, Romy?" Darry asked. I sighed. How many times was I going to get asked that question?

"Couple minutes from the school," I responded. _By car, _I added silently to myself.

We moved to the living room to continue the conversation. When they asked me questions, I tried to stick mostly to the truth. I didn't want to lie to the guys. I really didn't, but I just couldn't tell them the truth if I they asked me a question that I wasn't comfortable with. They didn't ask anything personal, just about basic things to try and start a conversation like where I lived and what my family was like. And those were the questions that I tried to avoid. I ended up getting them both to talk about rodeos again. That's when we heard the door open and turned to see Soda trotting in happily, a large grin on his face, with Steve walking behind him.

"Hey y'all," he said joyfully, "what's up?" I smiled.

"Talkin' 'bout rodeos," I answered. "You used to saddle bronc, right?" He nodded.

"Well yeah. I used to. Dad made me quit." He frowned for a split second and shrugged. "Oh, well, we still hang around them a lot."

"Pony told me. I've only been to one. I was little so I don't remember a whole lot." Soda put on an over exaggerated shocked face, making his eyes bulge and everything. Steve chuckled slightly and punched him playfully on the shoulder.

"Well we'll have to get you to one then!" Soda said. "I can't believe your folks haven't took you to one since you moved here! Ask your mom or something if we can take you!" He glanced over at Darry quickly as if making sure that was okay.

"She's fine with it," I said a little too quickly. Steve narrowed his eyes.

"What, do you two have telepathy or something?" he retorted. I rolled my eyes.

"I know she'd be okay with it. She's real good at lettin' me get out," I lied. Steve shrugged.

"Okay_, sure,_" he said sarcastically. I crossed my arms and leaned back on the couch I was sitting on. I was about to say something when Darry cut in.

"Okay, cut it out Steve," he snapped. Steve glared at me and I stuck my tongue out at him. I heard Pony laugh quietly next to me, but I didn't smile. I was sure that Steve noticed that I didn't like talking about my home or family by now. Either him or Soda. That definitely wasn't good for me.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry that this took so long to finish. I've been busy. I hope you enjoyed it and please review!**


	4. Conversation

I knew that I shouldn't stay for long, but I wanted to. I just couldn't make myself leave. Soda seemed to be having a good time talking with Steve, occasionally including me in their conversation. Pony, sitting next to me, was quiet, his brow furrowed in the direction of his eldest brother. I glanced in his direction, noticing that he was staring at me with an unreadable expression.

It felt great to be around them, but also awkward. They were part of a gang that I was not in. They were the rivals of the Socs, I—having no gang—was supposed to be intimidated by both gangs. Then there was the simple fact that we were of different genders. That really didn't bother me much but, still, it added to the awkwardness of my situation.

My thoughts were interrupted by the one and only Two-Bit who plopped down between Ponyboy and me. He chuckled and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Honey, do you know what a conversation is?" he asked jokingly. I smiled and wiggled out from under his arm.

"Only if you know what personal space is," I teased. He appeared to be thoughtful for a second, stroking an invisible beard as he thought.

"Sorry," he said after a while, "I'm afraid that I don't know the definition of that word . . ." I laughed and scooted as far to the other side of the couch as possible. That, however, was only a few inches. Two-Bit chuckled slightly.

"Sheesh, you have got to start talking, missy. You're being about as quiet as Pony when he's around people he doesn't know!" Pony punched his arm and Two-Bit wrestled him to the ground. I grinned again.

"I'm okay with that comparison," I stated. "At least I wasn't compared to _you_." I kicked him slightly with my foot as they rolled over near me. It wasn't very hard at all, but Pony was able to take advantage of it to put Two-Bit in a headlock.

"Say 'uncle'," he taunted. Two-Bit kept struggling but shook his head.

"Foul!" he growled. "That was a foul! You—she kicked me!" Pony smiled and tightened his hold.

"That ain't a foul. You're about twice my size. Her helping made it fair," he said pointedly, trying to hold him down.

"Agh—ah, okay, uncle," Two-Bit snarled, trying to get up. "Uncle, you hear, Pony? Lay off." Pony got off of Two-Bit and looked up at me, grinning triumphantly.

"Thanks," he hissed quietly to me, "for helpin' hold 'em down." I took my feet off of Two-Bit and smiled too.

"Any time, but you did most of the work." Two-Bit glared at me.

"Was to a foul," he grumbled. I heard the booming laughter of Darry and Soda, and shrugged to him.

"Eh, well the umpire didn't call it so I guess you still lost," I retorted.

"We need a new ump then because his eyesight is terrible." I shrugged again.

"Shoot, all umps' eyesight are terrible." Soda chuckled.

"Ain't that the truth," he said.

"It really sucks when you get a good one," I said, "'Cause it's unusual. It really stinks for the pitcher."

"I guess," Steve muttered dryly. Soda elbowed him sharply but playfully.

"You play?" he asked.

"Once upon a time," I sighed. "Before I moved."

"What positions?"

"Mainly pitcher and right field. Sometimes first and second."

"How long have you played."

"Since I was nine or ten."

"You still play?" I looked down sadly.

"No . . . not this year."

Pony looked up at me and said, "Tryouts haven't started yet for our school. You could still do it if you'd like." I gritted my teeth. I _wanted _to but I needed more supplies for that. I needed to be able to purchase supplies once I was on the team and I just couldn't afford that. Plus, the only thing that I really have is my mitt and bat. I just couldn't abandon those two when I moved into that building. If I played again, I would need to get a new bat since mine was apparently 'too heavy for my old coach'. Eh, that explained why I always swung late on the ball. I could get the bat around fast enough. Agh, very heavy bat.

"I just can't do it this year," I said. And that was enough on that subject. I was ready to move on. They were all staring at me and I fidgeted uncomfortably.

Steve took this as an opportunity to ask a question. "Where'd you move from?" I could tell that he'd asked this just to see if it would bother me any. It did a little, but not much.

"California," I said simply. Steve frowned.

"So you were born in California . . ." Now he was trying to get on my nerves. I gritted my teeth. I didn't want to lie to them but I sure as heck didn't want to talk about my past. Steve noticed my hesitation and smiled mockingly.

"Iowa," I growled, the hairs on my arms rising. Images of my life there began to flood back into my mind, and I suppressed a shiver, forcing myself not to flinch.

"Really," Steve said, mockingly pretending to be fascinated. He could tell that I was uncomfortable. "Where in Iowa? What school did you go to? How long did you live there? Did—"

"Shut the heck up!" I snapped suddenly. Steve clamped his mouth shut but his face soon took over a more smug expression.

"What?" he said, his tone touched with false innocence. My eyes flared, and I walked towards the door.

"I will _never _talk about Iowa," I hissed to him as I passed him by. "Especially to the likes of _you._" I bristled but I couldn't stop my face from taking on a more pleading expression. "Don't ask me questions like that," I said, just a little bit louder so the rest of the gang could hear. My voice cracked in the middle of my sentence. Well that was embarrassing. "Just don't." I saw something cross Steve's face but ignored it and turned around.

I reached for the doorknob. "Thanks for letting me come over for a bit," I said to the Curtis family. I turned around and left quickly.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while to write the fourth chapter. Let me know what you think of it!**

**Thank you _so _much for reading and reviewing! Your advice, criticism, and praise is all greatly appreciated! **

**If you have any ideas, please let me know!**

**Thanks again!**

**~Jacovi**


	5. The Intruder

I didn't get much sleep that night. I couldn't believe that I'd met those people. I couldn't believe that they were kind to me. I couldn't believe that I blew it. I let Steve get too much out of me and I blew it. Now they knew that there was something about my family that had really traumatized me when I was growing up. They knew it, but they weren't going to find out what. None of them, especially Steve. Never Steve.

I shifted my position on the cold floor and pulled my jacket around me tighter. Gosh, it could get chilly at night. I'd never noticed that until I started staying in this beat up building. It was probably because the door was broken on its hinge and all the windows were broken. It couldn't help that the walls and floor were made of concrete with the occasional torn up tiles. The absence of body heat during the day probably added to it, too.

It still amazed me how comfortable school textbooks could be. I'd been sleeping on my backpack since I started living here and, strangely, it wasn't _that_ uncomfortable, or at least I didn't think so. Maybe I'm just weird like that. I shifted my position again and sleep eventually found me.

_. . . Why were they hitting each other? Why were the people watching laughing . . . ? How could they find two people beating each other up funny? It wasn't funny to her. What was so comical about it?_

_Everyone was smiling and laughing except for one girl in the crowd. She looked disturbed as the two clowns pretended to hit each other. Her long hair—a lighter shade of brown back then—was in a braid down her back, her peculiar eyes scanning the scene, and she gaped at the people around her who seemed to be enjoying the show. But she didn't see the joke. There wasn't one._

_The girl soon turned her back on the two clowns and pushed her way back through the crowd. She wanted to get out of there. She wanted to get home quickly. She knew something was wrong._

_Suddenly, the scene changed from the fair to darkness. Flames engulfed her vision, and she breathed faster, only to inhale the foul and unmistakable scent of liquor. _

I gasped and jolted awake, sitting up and looking around wildly. I gagged and shuddered, wiping sweat off of my brow. _Just another dream, _I told myself. Gosh, you'd think that I'd be used to them now. This had been happening for about seven years now. Maybe more. Honestly, _what _was wrong with me? I was waking up in a sweat because of a _dream_. I've got to toughen up.

I leaned against the cold wall, covering my head with my hands, looking at the floor. _You're such a wimp, _I lectured myself. _It was a stupid dream, get over it! _But it wasn't just a dream, and lying to myself wasn't helping.

I stayed like that for a long while, concentrating on my breathing, trying to make it even. When I felt a little better, I curled up on my books again, but I didn't fall asleep. I couldn't. I was afraid.

_I heard the rhythm of soft footsteps, slowly coming towards me. It sounded almost as if they were trying to sneak away from something . . . or someone. They were getting closer and I could hear the chatter of men in the distance . . . the police . . . ?_

I opened my eyes and blinked but the noises didn't go away. I didn't think that I'd fallen asleep again. I'd only closed my eyes for a moment . . .

The sounds were definitely real and I gathered my things into the nearest corner, pressing myself against them and hoping no one would come into my hiding spot. Was that too much to ask for? Too much to hope for?

I heard the sound of glass breaking as whomever it was stepped on one of the pieces of the broken windows of my building. I flinched and made a soft noise in my throat, pressing harder back against my things. I was terrified. Who was out there? Did they know that I was here? What did they want?

A shadow passed through the broken doorway and I sat still, petrified. He didn't seem to notice me and crept further back into my building. Who was he? What was he after? Was he a thief . . . ? He sure didn't seem like a 'nice' guy to me, the way he was sneaking around.

I reached behind and felt around until my hand brushed a nice, cool, metal object. I stood up silently and held up my too-heavy-softball bat. I was glad now that I still had it. I was going to find out who this guy was and what he was doing. I was certain that I could swing the bat around quick enough to protect myself.

I followed him to the back of the building. I followed, light on my feet, very quietly. There was no way he could hear me. Until I stepped on a piece of broken glass, of course.

He spun around quickly, the motion swift and almost impossible to see in these shadows. His eyes flared and I was pretty sure that his hand went to his back pocket. It was hard to tell. The only visible things in this darkness being the two pairs of eyes: his and mine. Staring at each other, piercing through the gloom like four beacons. His were cerulean, mine a kind of light sky blue. We stared at each other for a couple of seconds before I raised my bat.

"Who are you?" I demanded. He didn't respond, his eyes flicking around the room. He took a step closer to me and I swung my bat. He ducked out of the way and flicked something out from his back pocket.

It was a blade. I could tell by the sound. My heart skipped a beat and then began beating at a faster pace. I swung my bat again, out of fear, but I missed again. He was fast. At one moment he'd be on one side of me and in less than a half second, he'd be on my other side. I couldn't keep up.

I don't think that he wanted to hurt me. Scare me? Definitely. Drive me away? Probably. Actually injure me? No. I continued to swing my dang heavy bat, but I just couldn't get him. I didn't want to hit him with it . . . I probably had the same intentions that he did. Scare him and drive him away, not hurt him. Apparently he didn't get scared to easily because he was still dodging the bat. In fact, it almost seemed like he was _toying _with me.

I grunted and took a step towards him, cornering him against a wall. _I've got him now,_ I told myself although I completely doubted it. I swung my bat again, much harder and faster this time, but he dove under it and it hit . . . something. I couldn't tell what it was but I thought it was wooden. And it was definitely part of my building.

I said that it was old, beat up, run-down. I was not exaggerating. I heard the object that my bat hit give a groan and then something above me shook. I dropped my bat and ran forward about two steps but I was too slow. There was a snapping noise and I fell to the ground as parts of the building began to come down.

The person who had come into my home got away from the wreckage and watched at a safe distance. I tried to crawl away but my foot was pinned under debris. I covered my head with my hands to protect it from the still falling pieces, thinking that I was lucky that it was just my foot.

When the last fragment had fallen, I looked up to see a new hole in my roof. I tried to sit up but my foot was still stuck. I tried to wiggle it out and then winced. That wasn't going to work.

Other than my foot, I was fine, except for some cuts and bruises on my hands, arms, and torso. Nothing serious. I tried again to wiggle my foot out then sighed painfully and leaned back on the floor. There _had _to be another way.

Just then I heard a quiet chuckle and footsteps approach me. A pair of half-crazed cerulean eyes blinked at me and I shuddered. Well wasn't this just going to top my perfect day.

"Leave me alone," I groaned. I think that his eyebrow cocked.

"Ah, so you _are_ a girl," he said, his voice deep and slurred slightly.

"Please go away."

"You want me to just walk away after you tried to kill me?" I tried to get my foot out again. Epic fail.

"I-I wasn't . . . wasn't trying to kill you," I gasped. He crossed his arms.

"Then what was with the whole 'bat thing'?"

"I-I . . . wanted you outta my home." His eyebrow cocked again.

"You're home?" He laughed quietly. "And what's a lady doin' living in a home like this?" I struggled to get out of the debris. I didn't care if it did hurt. I just wanted _out._ He seemed to figure that out because he crouched down beside me and looked over to where my foot was stuck.

"Well, it looks like you got yourself stuck pretty good, eh?" he said teasingly. He reached over and threw a few pieces of whatever the heck it was off of me, and I snatched my foot out from under it. I quickly inspected it, noticing that it was thankfully, only sprained, not broken.

"Thanks," I murmured quietly, looking back up at him, "for helping."

"Thanks," he scoffed and snorted. "Help you did I? I suppose I did . . . don't mention it." He blinked again. "Seriously, don't." I blinked dumbly.

We heard police sirens in the distance and he jumped to his feet. He walked to the broken doorway and then turned around and looked at me. "It's the fuzz," he spat, and began to foul the air with a wide vocabulary of cuss words. "Don't tell them that I was here." He glared at me and then took off in a flash.

I wasn't going to tell the police that he was here. I still didn't even know who he was.


End file.
